


The Trees

by newsiees



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Lovies, M/M, Spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6144764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsiees/pseuds/newsiees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The springtime was Race's favorite, no thanks to Spot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trees

**Author's Note:**

> the title based on the poem "The Trees" by Philip Larkin. ((it's really good!!))

The springtime was Race’s favorite, no thanks to Spot.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

Spot prefered the autumn weather, constantly drowning in cozy sweaters, eating warm food, and having an excuse to use for habitually holding Race’s hand.

Race, however, couldn’t get enough of spring. The warming weather was full of hope, accented by the bluer skies and greener grass and brighter flowers. 

By April, Race was in heaven. 

“Spot, can you believe it? It’s almost seventy degrees out!! I’m going to wear shorts,” Race announced, bustling around the bedroom as the sun pushed through the closed shades. He gave the bed another glance and raised his eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Are you sure you want to wear that sweater?” 

“Positive. I like it.”

“Oh, I know you do,” Race giggled. “What should we do today? The fresh air is calling our name, we can’t ignore it.” 

Spot shrugged and stretched his arms up, closing his eyes in the comfort of his sweater and the familiar atmosphere. 

“It’s up to you. This is your time of year, after all.” 

Race grinned at Spot, rolling his eyes. 

“Fine then. Go make sandwiches. We’re going on a picnic.”

“No. No way.” 

“You said it was my choice. Now remember, I don’t like tomatoes,” Race laughed as he bounced into the bathroom to get ready. 

_Great_ , Spot thought, sighing as he pushed off the bed to the kitchen. Regardless of his grumpiness, he slammed some bread and meat together. Spot Conlon never imagined he’d be caught dead having a picnic, but then again, Spot Conlon also never imagined he’d be caught dead doing something to make someone else happy. 

Once a small cooler was packed with what Race would call “goodies”, the two head out for some open land outside of the city.

“Beautiful…,” Race murmured upon seeing the bright grass reflecting the shining sun. 

“I know I am,” Spot sighed, plopping on some dry grass.

Race rolled his eyes at him, but didn’t deny it, as he sat down next to him, leaning back on his hands. 

Within time, their hands intertwined and they naturally relaxed towards each other. This was peaceful. They were together and safe. 

Spot stole glances at Race as the wide-eyed Italian marveled over the clear, blue sky. Race sensed this, but would never say a word. The gesture was too important to him.

“Hey, Spot, what do you say we move out here? Sleep on the grass out under the stars and run through the woods all day. Nothing but us and the world.” 

Spot raised an eyebrow and looked from his boyfriend to the white fluffy clouds floating over the comforting trees before sighing into a sedated smile.

“Yeah, I think I could do that.”

Race beamed at Spot and squeezed his hand.

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Yeah. I think I just might love the spring,” Spot confessed. _And you._

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

The springtime was Race’s favorite, all thanks to Spot.


End file.
